


Give Me Love

by PastelGreywaren



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Angel!Patrick, Angels, Angst, Fluff, Guardian Angels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Patrick is a dork, Pete is smooth af, Rating May Change, This is my first fic so wow it sucks, mentions of depression, not sure what else to tag, so is Brendon, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelGreywaren/pseuds/PastelGreywaren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever been told, "always be kind to others, because you never know when you may be in the presence of an angel"? Well, it's true. Meet Patrick, a young angel sent to Earth on a mission; to serve as the guardian angel of Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. Meet Pete, a Chicago record label worker struggling with depression.<br/>The only problem? Patrick doesn't know where or who Peter is, or even the reason he needs a guardian. Once he finds him, he immediately knows he's in over his head (and Pete is head over heels).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm super excited to see this fic written and posted, because it's been an idea in my mind for a while now. The title was taken from Ed Sheeran's song, Give Me Love. This fic should be updated at least once a day, sometimes every other day. Also, feedback and suggestions are amazing (and encouraged)! Thank you so much for reading!! <3

     Ever been told, "always be kind to others, because you never know when you may be in the presence of an angel"? Well, it's true. See, the Man Upstairs sends angels down all the time, just to check up on things or certain people, keeping things flowing smoothly.

Today, a group of angels was to be sent down, and another to return. Among the Earth-bound angels was Patrick, a young angel barely out of his fledgling stage. His mission for this particular trip was to serve as a sort of guardian angel to a man somewhere on Earth. All Patrick was given was the man's name, and Heaven would (hopefully) send him down to the right place, leaving the angel to find his charge on his own and to figure out why he needed a guardian. Others who had served as guardian angels before always said "you'll know them when you see them". Whatever that's supposed to mean.

In his time as an angel, Patrick had yet to be sent down to Earth with so many of his kin. He'd been before, sure, but it's been a while since he was alive. He had no idea what this journey would encompass.

Adrenaline filled him as the great Gates of Heaven began to creak open, and other, more experienced angels began to spread their wings and dive through the clouds. Patrick hesitated and other angels brushed past him, knocking him this way and that. Now, there were about fifteen left that hadn't jumped, mostly young, wide eyed angels who were watching in horror as one by one, the other angels dove from Heaven. Patrick steeled himself and drifted out of the gates and to the edge of Heaven itself, tucking his wings in close to his body. He couldn't get hurt. It would all be fine. Everything would be okay.

Then he fell.

Down, down, down. Bitter wind whipped at Patrick's face and tore at his wings, and he wondered if any of his downy feathers would survive the flight. As soon as he noticed that he could no longer see any other angel falling below him, bright white light clouded his vision, blinding him. Then, comfortable darkness.

Patrick blinked blearily against the sun's harsh midday light, standing unsteadily. Arms? Check. Hands with five fingers each? Check. Two legs with one foot each? A little shorter than expected, but check. Wings? Humans couldn't see them anyway- not unless the angel wanted them to- but he'd like to know if they got damaged in the journey. He craned his neck to glance over his shoulder. Two fluffy wings greeted him, feathers fluttering with the light draft flowing through the alley.

Alley?

Patrick finally glanced around his surroundings, noting the dark, dingy brick walls surrounding him. He scrunched up his nose and stepped out of the puddle he had landed in, moving onto less soggy pavement. So he was in a city? Interesting...

He continued to feel around for what he had with him, ending up with a wallet (complete with ID, a credit card, and cash), a cell phone, and a key ring with two keys and some sort of address pressed onto a worn leather tab. Apparently he had his glasses back too, because they kept sliding down his nose and driving him crazy.

Patrick took a breath and made his way out of the alley and onto the busy sidewalk. No one was staring, so that was a good sign. He had to pause for a moment, staring up at the buildings in awe. The streets were alive with people milling about, going about their daily lives. Horns blared on the streets and taxi drivers shouted in various languages. Despite the chaos, everything seemed to be flowing perfectly. He knew this city... A taxi with an advertisement on it's roof pulled up to the curb to pick up the person who had hailed it. The ad was for a lawyer who, sure enough, had a Chicago area code in their phone number.

Feeling considerably more comfortable, Patrick took a breath and casually melded in with the crowd, walking until he caught his reflection in the window of some sort of a business. He blinked a few times, stopped in his tracks (not without receiving a few dirty looks), and just observed himself.

He was a little on the pudgy side, with fair skin and fine, mousy brown hair covered by a black fedora. The sleeves of his red cardigan were a little too long for his arms, but at least his black skinny jeans fit him nicely. As he turned to admire them a little bit more, he heard a tap on the glass. The angel froze, blinking, until he heard another series of taps. He furrowed his brow and squinted at the window while shielding his eyes from the sun. Suddenly, he spotted a face staring back at him.

He recoiled back, stunned, and stumbled into someone walking behind him. Said someone shoved him back, grumbling under their breath, and left Patrick trying to regain his balance (and his dignity) all while fighting down the burning heat in his cheeks. Patrick stepped back towards the window and- The person in the window was laughing. Laughing! He frowned, clearly not amused, as he stared at the person in the window.

They attempted to calm themselves, grinning as they mouthed, "smooth".

Patrick tried to remain serious, but his composure crumbled and he mouthed back, "I try my best".

This made the other start to laugh once more. Patrick was about to continue aimlessly walking down the street when the person in the window tapped the glass and motioned for Patrick to come closer. At least, that's what he thought they meant.

When he took a step towards the window, they shook their head and mouthed, "in here".

"Me?" Patrick replied.

The other rolled their eyes. "No," they began, "that pigeon. Yes, you."

Patrick paused to think this over. He really needs to find his charge, but... would a little detour really hurt? But he didn't even know this person. Why would they invite him in? ... Was this flirting? Something clicked in his mind. This person was flirting with him. He hadn't even been on Earth for five minutes and had already snagged someone. He knew he wasn't an Adonis, but was he really that attractive?

He probably looked like a deer in the headlights, and if he didn't answer soon, the other might take their offer back... It couldn't hurt...

The angel couldn't help but crack a smile, nodding as he made his way towards the door. Clandestine Café, it read. Strange name for a café... He pushed through the revolving door and into the restaurant, glancing around for the person that he saw-

Oh.

A man with dark hair and olive skin was waving him down, and Patrick felt an odd pang in his chest. Goosebumps rose on his arms and his wings trembled with some sort of anticipation that hadn't seemed to reach Patrick's brain yet.

That was him. Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, his charge.

Patrick waved back stiffly, more stunned than anything. This must be some kind of record... Does he get a prize for finding his charge that quickly? He decided that approaching the table would be better than staring at Peter like he just grew another head, so that's what he did. "

Does that happen to you a lot?" Peter asked with an amused smile as Patrick pulled out a chair.

"Hm?"

"You checking yourself out in windows and stumbling into pedestrians?"

Patrick huffed, raising an eyebrow. "That's no way to greet a stranger."

"Stranger? I thought we were at least acquaintances," Peter said, a hand flying to his chest in mock hurt.

"Acquaintances? You don't even know my name."

"Let me fix that. Hey, I'm Pete Wentz," he said with an easy grin, holding out a hand.

Patrick resisted the urge to say "I know" and instead returned the smile and shook Peter- /Pete's/- hand.

"Patrick Stump." At least, that's what he remembered his name to be. Hopefully the ID in his wallet said the same thing, or he'd have a lot of explaining to do later.

"Patrick. Huh. Suits you," Pete said after a moment after Patrick remembered to let go of the other's hand.

"Suits me?" he replied with a raised brow, "How so?"

"I dunno. Cute name, cute guy," said Pete casually, as if this was something he did all the time. Patrick blinked a few times. His charge was flirting with him... His charge thought he was cute. And if he was being honest with himself, Pete wasn't a bad looking guy. But there has to be some kind of rule against this, right? He can't openly flirt back with his charge... He's supposed to be his guardian, for Pete's sake- Pete. Right.

Patrick was lost in his own thoughts again, and Pete probably thought Patrick was rejecting him (which he probably should do for both of their sakes).

"Too soon? Er, sorry. I just-" Pete began, looking a lot less confident than he did five minutes before.

Patrick smiled, shook his head, and (because he's being nice, that's all, of course) said, "You're not too bad yourself."

This turned Pete's worried grimace into a megawatt grin in half a second, and his smile turned out to be infectious.

                           ~•~

They talked for a good half hour, connecting with their similar interests in music. Patrick reminisced about his short time as a musician. When Pete asked why he stopped, Patrick simply said other things in his life got in the way. He failed to mention the real reason; that his life was cut short.

He learned that Pete played the guitar and piano, but sang "like a dying whale". Patrick couldn't help the burst of pride he got at Pete's stunned expression when he named all the instruments he played.

"So, were you a band geek?" Pete had asked. Patrick laughed, "Something like that."

Finally, in the middle of an odd story involving Pete's first job, he seemed to remember something as he checked his watch.

"Shit," he hissed, "I've gotta run. I have work in ten minutes. Time kinda got away from me."

Patrick pursed his lips, pushing down the disappointment he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, um-"

"Can I give you my number?"

If Patrick had a dollar for every time Pete had stunned him today, he'd-... well, he'd be rich.

"Um, sure. Here, uh..." Patrick began to dig around in his pockets for the cell phone he found earlier, pulling it out and dropping his wallet and keys in the process. He quickly snatched up his belongings and handed his phone to Pete, who was smirking.

"A flip phone? What is this, 2005?"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "It's all I know how to use." That was true, at least. That was the kind of phone he had before.

He watched at Pete click a few buttons, type in his number, then hand the phone back. He looked smug... When Patrick raised an eyebrow, Pete only laughed. "What did you do?"

Patrick pressed a button and his phone lit up, revealing his contacts list. He scrolled down and-

"Really, Pete?"

Pete had surrounded his name with hearts and winky faces. When Patrick gave him a look, Pete burst into laughter.

"Gotta go. Text me?"

Patrick could only laugh softly and nod before Pete turned and was heading out the door.

He'd consider today a success.


	2. Texts and Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got excited, so I wrote another quick chapter. Another should be up sometime tomorrow! Also; for this chapter, italics are Pete's texts and regular is Patrick's

     After three cab rides and quite a few odd looks thrown his way, Patrick finally found the address engraved on the leather tab on his keyring.

He was pleasantly surprised by his apartment; with one bedroom and one bath, it was simple and nice, but the living room was large and beautiful. The little kitchen seemed to be stocked with everything he'd need for a while, with all the perishable food within a good date.

When he'd finished looking around, he realized that nagging feeling in the back of his mind was exhaustion. He'd already had a long day and deserved a nap, right? It was only 3 o'clock, but it's not like he'd sleep longer than an hour or two. Then he'd... he didn't really know what he'd do, actually. He'd figure something out later. Right now, his brain was practically screaming at him to sleep.

Patrick dragged himself to the bedroom, his wings practically trailing the ground, and kicked off his shoes before flopping on the (soft but squeaky) bed, out like a light in minutes.

Boy, was he wrong.

When Patrick woke up, it was nearly 8:15. He felt much better than he did before his rest, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something.

Pete!

He'd forgotten to text Pete. He probably thought Patrick had blown him off... He patted his back pockets and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts (who were these people?) until he found Pete's name and all the hearts that surrounded it. 'Hey, it's Patrick' he typed, then sent.

When he didn't immediately get a reply, he began to worry. What if Pete gave him the wrong number? What if this was all some cruel prank and now he has no way of contacting his charge? What if-

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone chiming cheerfully. Patrick had never scrambled to read something so fast. It was embarrassing, really.

' _thought u werent gonna txt me after all. couldnt stay away?? ;)_ ' came Pete's reply.

Patrick smiled to himself, 'You wish. Just staying true to my word.'

' _thats it?_ ' Pete typed.

'Hm. Maybe. Maybe not.'

After a moment, Patrick decided to add, ':)'

' _ur such a flirt ;P_ '

Patrick rolled his eyes, 'Look who's talking.'

' _shhhhhhhh_ '

He pursed his lips and wracked his brain for a reply, anything to keep this going. He needed to stay in contact with Pete. To figure him out and all. Not just for the sake of seeing him again, although that would be a nice bonus.

Before he could even type anything, Pete sent another message, ' _ok so this is probably 2 fast but do u want to go out again??_ '

' _not that we went out today but_ '

' _u know wht i mean_ '

Patrick couldn't help but laugh. 'I would love to. When?'

He took that long pause as stunned silence on Pete's end.

' _is 2morrow for lunch ok?_ '

'Sounds good to me.'

' _see u then pattycakes ;)_ '

'Pattycakes?'

' _i like nicknames_ '

'So you chose a complicated one as opposed to something simple?'

' _i thought pattycakes was cute. a lot like u ;)_ '

'You're not actually gonna call me that, right?'

' _idk. no promises tho :)_ '

Patrick found that he was smiling to himself, something like fondness aching in his chest. 'I'll come up with a ridiculous nickname for you tomorrow, then.'

' _hey!! pattycakes is not ridiculous. its a work of art_ '

'Uh huh. And I'm the queen of England.'

' _u have the hips for it i guess_ '

'??? What do hips have to do with the Queen?'

'And why were you looking at mine?'

' _shes a woman, women have hips. get w/ the program pattycakes_ '

' _and thats classified information ;)_ '

'Goodness. Well, I'll see you tomorrow?'

' _see u 2morrow. goodnight!!_ '

'Goodnight, Peter Pan.'

' _seriously?? thts the best u can do??_ '

'What? I'm tired, cut me some slack.'

' _take a nap then old man_ '

'Already did. Goodnight again!'

' _night pattycakes :) have fun w/ ur nap_ '

Now Patrick was smiling uncontrollably. Pete was a great guy, he could already tell. And maybe it was a side effect of being a guardian angel, but he had to admit, he was becoming attached.

Yawning, he stretched and hauled himself off of the bed, his bones popping in protest. He'd fix himself something sweet, then head to bed and try to get to sleep.

__As he poured himself a glass of milk, he couldn't help but grin a bit at just how smoothly his day had gone. Hopefully tomorrow will go just as nicely.


	3. Pete's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this story is kind of progressing slowly. I've got a few ideas in mind, I think. Anywho, comments and suggestions are always appreciated! Trust me, I smile every time I get one. This particular chapter was actually a suggestion. Thanks for reading!! <3 I might upload another chapter by the end of the day, too. If you have any suggestions, drop me a line! Thanks!!

The thoughts were back and Pete needed an escape. He couldn't afford to let his mind wander without any sort of distraction. And he certainly wasn't ready to handle what he may find. So, a trip to his favorite café was his solution. It would take his mind off of things before work, and he could grab a cup of coffee, which was practically his lifeblood in the morning.

He finally dragged himself out of bed- albeit grudgingly- at 11:30. He managed to get himself showered and dressed in thirty minutes, and was on his way to Clandestine at 12:15 (after finding that the elevator in his apartment was broken again and having to shlep down four flights of stairs).

Good thing it was a Saturday, or else Pete would definitely be late for work. He goes in later on the weekends, and luckily the sudden decline of his mental state happened to land on one.

Pete arrived at Clandestine Café around 12:30, in desperate need of caffeine. Seeing the look on his face, Josh- a server Pete had come to know- smiled and asked if he wanted his usual. Pete nodded gratefully, and Josh got to work as Pete rifled through his wallet and pulled out the amount due.

"Rough day already? Careful, it's hot." Said Josh when he handed Pete his cup of coffee.

He took a whiff of the vaguely caramel-scented drink and let a small smile flicker onto his face.

"Tell me about it."

"If there's anything I can do, just come get me. I can hook you up with a cookie or something. Maybe bore you to death with some bad puns," Josh laughed softly, "Enjoy your coffee, man."

"Thanks, Josh. I will."

With that, Pete went off to find his usual window seat. Hopefully no one had taken it already. Thankfully, the odds were in his favor for once today and his seat was open. He plopped down in a chair, took a sip of his coffee, and promptly scalded his mouth. As he sat there sputtering, he could almost sense Josh's gaze. Sure enough, when he looked up, Josh was staring back, an "I told you so" look on his face. Pete attempted to cool his mouth and rolled his eyes, smiling just a bit.

He ended up taking up Josh's offer of a cookie. He was always a sucker for red velvet. As he sat back down with his dessert, movement outside his window caught his eye. Or rather, lack of it. A guy had stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk and was now looking through the window as if it held the answers to all life's problems.

He was kind of cute to say the least, with wide framed glasses on a cherubic face. When the guy turned his back on the window, still looking at it over his shoulder, Pete realized he was looking at his reflection. He actually laughed a bit, and for whatever reason, decided to tap on the glass and get the guy's attention.

The guy froze, his brow furrowed, and squinted into the glass. Pete merely grinned back and waited. Sure enough, the man noticed him and leapt back, stumbling into a passerby behind him. Pete began to laugh, to which the guy didn't seem amused.

"Smooth," mouthed Pete, still grinning.

The guy looked indignant for a moment and Pete was afraid he had offended him. But, his resolve shattered and he mouthed back "I try my best."

Pete paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He liked this guy already, but did he have a chance with him? He wouldn't if he didn't make a move. The guy went to leave but Pete tapped the window again, getting his attention. Maybe he could invite him in to talk or buy him a coffee or something...

The guy stepped forward, looking confused (which was kind of adorable). Pete shook his head and laughed, mouthing, "in here".

Again, the man looked stunned. He blinked once, twice, then replied, "me?".

Alright, this guy was definitely a keeper.

"No, that pigeon. Yes, you," Pete jested, noting the tiny smile that flickered over the other's lips. Oh yeah. He's a keeper.

When the guy hesitated, Pete deflated a bit. He knew it was too good to be true. He couldn't expect the universe to be _that_ good to him today, right? Why would this random guy on the street even want to talk to him in the first place, much less be interested? He knew that was just his lack of meds talking (he forgot to take them. Again), but he couldn't stop the thoughts from coming.

Suddenly, the guy nodded and smiled, then disappeared from view. Was he actually coming in? Pete twisted in his seat to see the door and, sure enough, here comes Cute Guy, glancing around the restaurant.

Pete waved a hand and they locked eyes, the man going wide eyed. Pete would like to think his looks had that effect.

The man slowly made his way to the table, flashing a small smile and pulling out a chair when Pete gestured to it.

"Does that happen to you a lot?"

Did Pete actually say that? Of course he did. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous about talking to this guy. Word vomit happened to be a side effect of his nervousness.

"Hm?" murmured the other, brow furrowed.

"You checking yourself out in windows and stumbling into pedestrians?" said Pete, grinning.

He hoped he wasn't being rude. He didn't want to drive the guy off. The other frowned a bit and raised an eyebrow,

"That's no way to greet a stranger."

"Stranger?" replied Pete, "I thought we were at least acquaintances."

For dramatic effect, he slapped a hand over his chest with a mock pout.

"Acquaintances? You don't even know my name."

Pete could see a tiny smile fighting it's way onto the other's face, and got a burst of confidence.

"Let me fix that. Hey, I'm Pete Wentz," he said while flashing a bright grin, holding out his hand.

The man took it and smiled politely.

"Patrick Stump."

"Patrick. Huh. Suits you,"

Pete said after a moment, his confidence never waning.

"Suits me?" Patrick replied, "How so?"

"I dunno. Cute name, cute guy," said Pete nonchalantly, taking a bite out of his cookie. A moment after he said it, he began to regret it. Word vomit. Blame it on the word vomit. Although, what he said was true...

Patrick seemed to hesitate once more, pursing his lips and looking down. Pete cringed inwardly. He shouldn't have said anything. Patrick was never interested in him in the first place. It was just Pete being cocky, as usual.

"Too soon? Er, sorry. I just-" Pete began as he wrung his hands under the table, his heart falling just a bit. He was cut off by Patrick's small smile and a shake of his head

"You're not too bad yourself."

Pete paused and processed this. Patrick didn't reject him /and/ thought he "wasn't bad"? Wow. Pete should come here more often.

They talked about a lot of things in the half hour they had together; mostly family, music, and the odd story here in there. Patrick seemed uncomfortable with the topic of family, so Pete dropped it quickly.

They had a lot in common regarding music, however. Patrick was amazingly talented, playing the trumpet, guitar, upright bass, and others. He wondered if he could sing, too... He'd have to ask him another time.

                          ~•~

So Joe was freaking out, right? And of course I didn't know what the hell do to. How do you handle-..." Pete trailed off in the middle of his story, absentmindedly checking his watch.

1:42.

Shit, 1:42!

"Shit," Pete muttered, "I've gotta run. I have work in ten minutes. Time kinda got away from me." Patrick nodded slowly, looking a bit disappointed.

"Oh, um-" he began, but Pete cut him off, blurting, "Can I give you my number?"

He really needs to pull himself together.

"Um, sure. Here, uh..."

Oh.

Patrick dug around in his pockets, probably for his phone. In the process of pulling it out, he scattered everything that was in his pockets. Maybe it was just how he looked in the light, but Patrick's cheeks seemed to be tinged pink. Maybe it was just embarrassment, or maybe it was something else entirely.

He slid his phone across the table towards Pete, who took it and just looked at it for a moment.

"A flip phone? What is this, 2005?"

Pete smirked a bit, pressing a button and watching the screen light up. Patrick rolled his eyes goodnaturedly.

"It's all I know how to use."

Pete resisted the urge to make an old man joke, instead creating a contact for himself. He typed in a few hearts just for good measure, then closed the phone with a click and handed it back to Patrick, biting back a grin. As he stood up and gathered his things, Patrick watched him carefully, puzzled and a bit suspicious.

"What did you do?" he asked, glancing from his phone to Pete.

Patrick pressed a button and Pete watched, waiting for the moment when-

"Really, Pete?"

Bingo.

Pete laughed, managing to get out, "Gotta go. Text me?"

Patrick, although exasperated, laughed softly and nodded. Pete winked and whipped around, heading to work with a much brighter attitude. The thoughts were still there, sure, but now there was kind of a buffer. A buffer by the name of Patrick Stump.


	4. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! This chapter took longer than expected. It deleted itself about a third of the way in, then writers block decided to rain on my parade. Anyway, as usual, comments and suggestions are amazing! You guys rock, and thanks for all the positive feedback!!

After sleeping poorly, getting up early,  fiddling around his apartment, and texting Pete about a time and place for lunch, Patrick was hoping for another good day. The sky was clouding up fast, and Patrick vaguely wondered if there was an umbrella stashed somewhere in the apartment. It wasn't like he didn't like rain; he loved it, actually. However, wet feathers are not the most pleasant experience. He decided against looking for said umbrella and settled for a shower instead. 

In the midst of rinsing his hair, he realized that he didn't have any clothes other than the ones he appeared in yesterday. As he stepped out of the shower to dry off, he crossed his fingers and hoped that the other Angels had stocked this apartment with more than just food and furniture. Patrick couldn't meet Pete in just a towel. Well, technically he could, but he'd probably get thrown in an institution, and he couldn't afford for that to happen now.

He grabbed yesterday's clothes from the counter and padded into the bedroom, his wings spread to aid in drying them. First, he made his way towards the closet, hoping,  _praying_ for any item of clothing. He opened the door and... nothing. Cursing softly, he turned to the dresser against the wall. Patrick at least needed another shirt. Even a t-shirt would do. He was just having lunch, after all. Sure enough, a worn, short sleeved mauve button-up alongside another pair of black jeans greeted him in the second drawer. 'Not too shabby,' he thought to himself as he gathered up his items of clothing and began to get dressed.

Patrick realized he had a bit of time to kill after he was finished dressing, so he decided to use that time to become a reacquainted with his old hometown. Before he headed out, he flapped his still-damp wings a few times for good measure, gathered up his other belongings (minus his glasses), and headed out the door. He then began to navigate the labyrinth that was his apartment building, and, after a few wrong turns, finally made it out. 

Beneath the acrid stench of exhaust, Patrick smelled the earthy scent of the coming rain. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wander the streets today, after all. Checking the clock on his phone, he figured he had enough time to walk to Clandestine (Pete's choice, not his) and still be early. He'd stay safely under the cover of the awnings that nearly every business had, keeping his wings dry. About five minutes into his walk, the rain picked up, pattering on the surface of the awnings above Patrick's head. He chuckled a little as he watched people out in the open go wide eyed and scramble for cover, some looking disgruntled and others looking genuinely distressed.

Roughly twenty minutes later (thanks to the entire human race deciding to crowd under the awnings with him), Patrick arrived at the café. He entered, glancing around for Pete to no avail. It appeared that Patrick got here earlier than anticipated, despite the crowd. He might as well order something while he waits, he reasoned. Strangely, he wasn't too hungry, so he ordered a coffee with extra sugar and a small cookie. Red velvet had always been his favorite as a child, and he hadn't had one in so long... 

"I don't think I've seen you here before," said the boy making his coffee. He had brightly colored hair and warm eyes. "I mean, you do remind me of a regular I see in here all the time, but... You were with Pete yesterday, right?"

Patrick nodded slowly. "You know Pete?"

"Yeah," the boy replied, and turned a bit so that Patrick could now see his name tag. 'Josh', it read. "He comes in here a lot. He needs a pick-me-up in the mornings usually, especially in the winter. So I assume you know him too?"

Again, Patrick nodded. 

"Sorry, that was kind of a dumb question, right?" Josh laughed, "You wouldn't just sit down with the guy without knowing him."

Now it was Patrick's turn to laugh. "It's kind of a weird story, but that's almost exactly what happened."

Josh's brows shot up, "Wait, what? So you just... sat down with him?"

"No! I mean, yes? But we talked through the window first. Uh... It's a long story."

"So, are you guys...?"

"No, no! Gosh, we just met," Patrick laughed lightly. "But we are meeting up again today."

Josh's gaze flickered from Patrick to something towards the door, then the boy grinned.

"Pete! Keeping your friend waiting, huh?"

Patrick spun around, nearly face to face with Pete.

"Hey," he said lamely.

"Hey, Pattycakes," Pete replied, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Patrick blinked a few times, then laughed, gently slugging Pete in the arm. "Seriously? You said you wouldn't call me that!"

"Hey, I never said that. I said ' _maybe'."_

Patrick rolled his eyes, paid for the coffee and cookie Josh had set on the counter, and stepped out of the way for Pete to order.

"That's all you're getting?" Pete asked, then eyed the wrapped cookie with interest. "Is that red velvet?"

Patrick nodded, pulling the cookie from the wax paper. "Yeah, it's always been my favorite."

Pete's eyes lit up at this. "Really? Mine, too!"

"Hey, I don't have all day," Josh spoke up, smiling.

"But you'd wait all day for me, right?" Pete asked with a wink, leaning over the counter on his elbows.

 

Josh snorted, "Keep dreaming. So, what'll it be? Snack or lunch?"

                                                           ~•~

Patrick's objective today was to learn as much as he could about Pete. He had to figure him out soon, see how he ticks. He's gotta be Pete's guardian angel somehow. So far, he knows Pete works with a record label and hopes to be the head of the company one day. He has two younger siblings, Hillary and Andrew. So far, nothing has come up that's too unusual. He'd just have to be patient, he supposed.

"So, what about you?" Pete asked after a moment.

"What about me?"

"Y'know," Pete said, "you got family? Work anywhere?"

"Oh. Um... I, uh... I have a brother and a sister, Kevin and Megan. I'm kind of the baby of the family," Patrick spoke, then bit his lip. 

Pete furrowed his brow and reached out a hand towards Patrick, the tips of his fingers brushing Patrick's forearm in a strangely intimate gesture. Pete immediately pulled back as if he had been burned, still looking concerned. 

"Hey, are you okay? We don't have to talk about family anymore if it bothers you," Pete said softly.

Patrick nodded, pursing his lips. "I'm sorry. It's just... I guess it's kind of a sensitive topic, but it's silly to get this worked up," he said with a weak laugh.

Pete flashed a reassuring smile and leaned back in his chair, but not before stealing a piece of Patrick's cookie. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, occasionally meeting each other's gaze and glancing away quickly as if they were lovestuck kids in high school. Finally, Pete spoke up,

"So, I know this probably sounds crazy, but... Yeah, this is gonna sound crazy. I feel like... I kinda feel like we have a connection, y'know? Like, it's like this nagging feeling in my brain that's telling me-" Pete stopped, then trailed off with a soft laugh. "Never mind. We literally just met. I dont need you to be weirded out by me or some shit already."

"N-no, I think I know what you mean. I kinda feel the same way, too."

If he ever had any doubts that Pete was his charge, they'd certainly be eradicated by now. A guardian angel sort of imprints on their charge when they meet, forming a sort of bond. That bond sometimes amplifies feelings already harbored by the angel, the human, or both. If the feelings are strong, they become almost tangible things; enough to "feel" them on a physical level, hence the nagging feeling Pete said he experienced.

Pete looked skeptical for a moment. "You do?"

Patrick nodded, smiling.

"So, uh... Does that mean I can call this a date?"

Pete looked so hopeful, Patrick couldn't help but laugh, despite still being unsure of how far the relationship between a guardian and their charge can go. He supposed he should just listen to his heart, like he'd been told his entire life on Earth and in Heaven. 

His heart wanted this to be a date. But his brain? Not so much. 

Patrick pursed his lips, then shrugged. "Maybe."

It was a half-assed answer, he knew, but hopefully Pete wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Pete was still for a moment, then broke out into a grin. "Can that maybe mean yes?"

Patrick laughed softly and slid the rest of his cookie towards Pete. 

"Maybe."


	5. Cupid's Chokehold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! So, this chapter is kinda weird. Right in the middle, it switches POV. Anywho, comments and suggestions make my day!! Thanks for reading! <3

Pete ran a hand through his hair, clenching his teeth against the headache that decided to grace his brain on this fine morning. He just needed to make it to lunch, that's all, then he'd see Patrick, and he'd work his magic and the weight on Pete's shoulders would lift, if even a little.

He's not sure what it is about the guy, but Patrick was magnetic. He had his stubborn moments, and could be kind of a dick sometimes, but overall he was sweet. And he put up with all of Pete's shit, so that's a bonus.

The thing is, Pete feels totally at ease with Patrick, as if they've known each other for years. It kinda scares him, actually. He never really warms up to people that fast. Sure, he's a friendly person, but it takes a while until he's fully at ease with someone, so much so that he wants to share everything with them. But he wouldn't do that to Patrick. Not yet. He doesn't deserve to have to carry that kind of baggage.

As the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open, Pete found that his mood had improved slightly, but his headache had not. Just thinking about Patrick had cheered him up? No way was he gonna let himself act like some teenager with a crush.

It's like he ran into Cupid or something, but instead of just shooting him, the little jerk put him in a chokehold.

"Where's your stick?" Pete's intern, Brendon, asked from his desk as soon as Pete flopped down in his chair.

"Uh, what?"

"Y'know, the stick you had up your ass yesterday?"

"Not in the mood, Brendon."

"Oh, there it is."

Pete cast him a look, and Brendon's smirk faltered a bit.

"No, but seriously, what's up with you? I thought you were in a good mood today," Brendon continued, leaning back in his seat and kicking his feet up on his desk.

Pete didn't feel like reprimanding him, because he does it at least ten times a day.

"I was until I saw that you were here," Pete replied with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Brendon rolled his eyes and fixed Pete with a pointed look. "Dude, I can tell when something's off. You were totally in a better mood earlier this week. What happened?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned with."

"O-kay... So, what put you in a good mood?"

Pete chuckled a bit, "What are you doing, writing a novel?"

"I'm just curious, God," Brendon huffed.

"I think you mean nosy," said Pete, earning a shrug and a smile from Brendon.

"Eh," he said, "you're probably right. So spill it already."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been about two weeks since Patrick found Pete, and the angel was starting to worry. Technically, after his duty is fulfilled, he doesn't need to stay. He gets warped back to heaven like nothing ever happened.

Patrick knows he needs to find out what's going on with Pete so he can actually do his job, but something in his mind doesn't want this to end soon. He's starting to feel the connection growing stronger and stronger every time they talk, every time they text, every time they accidentally brush up against one another, and he's sure Pete can feel it too. But he needs to help Pete. He knows he does, and just skirting around his problem to stay on Earth longer is just selfish.

Patrick can continue to go on dates and text with Pete at ungodly hours of the morning, but he needs to realize that this won't be forever. It breaks his heart, but he knows that he'll have to go back. And this connection they have isn't making matters better.

Patrick wouldn't dare say it's love. Not yet. It's a kind of fondness mixed in with some protectiveness. Pretty much the formula for love, but he can't- he /won't/- hurt Pete or himself like that.

But here he goes, going to another lunch with him. At least there's still a possibility of finding out more information about him.

As he walked into the restaurant (Mario's this time), he found that Pete was already there, looking tired and distanced, his head propped up by his hand and his elbow resting on the table. He was staring off at the wall opposite the table, and Patrick figured he was lost in thought.

The chair stuttered on the floor as he pulled it out from the table, and Pete snapped out of his reverie, smiling up at Patrick. "Hey, Pat," he greeted.

"What, no Pattycakes?" Patrick replied, smiling. Something's off, he can tell.

"Eh, didn't think you liked it," Pete said after a moment.

"I don't know, I thought it was kind of endearing."

"Well then, Pattycakes," Pete started, and Patrick laughed, "I take it back. Not in public."

"Oh, so were you planning to go somewhere else?" Pete asked, waggling his brow, and Patrick snorted out a laugh.

Now Pete was grinning brightly, his smile finally reaching his eyes, but Patrick was still curious about earlier.

"So, what's going on with you? You seemed a little... I don't know, down, I guess?"

Pete pursed his lips, then shrugged, "Killer headache."

That couldn't be all...

"Huh. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just gotta run home and take my meds."

Apparently Pete didn't mean to disclose that much, because his eyes widened a fraction as soon as it had registered that he'd spoken outside of his mind.

He'd never say it out loud, but watching Pete try to pull it together and play it cool was kind of hilarious.

"Meds?"

Pete bit the inside of his cheek, then shrugged noncommittally.

"I'm kinda fucked up."

Patrick took the silence after his statement as a sign that the conversation was over.

That afternoon, as they were about to part ways, Pete took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss Patrick. He must have felt Patrick stiffen, so he pressed his lips to Patrick's cheek instead. It wasn't like Patrick was uncomfortable; he was just startled (and some small part of his mind may have wanted Pete to kiss him). The last person to kiss him had been his girlfriend, but that was a long time ago.

"Um... So, lunch again sometime?" Pete asked with a crooked smile.

Patrick nodded quickly, still somewhat stunned. "Yeah, that sounds great. Your turn next time, right?"

Pete ran a hand through his hair and nodded.

"So, basically the same place?" Patrick teased, and Pete laughed.

"You don't know, I might spice it up a bit."

~~~

That evening, Patrick returned to his apartment, sat on his bed, and willed the butterflies in his belly to calm.


	6. They didn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back with another quick chapter for you guys. Trigger warning for implied mentions of suicide attempts, depression, and car crashes. Sorry to get all sad on you all the sudden. As always, feedback and suggestions are amazing, and thanks for reading!!

_The radio was blasting something by Marvin Gaye, but Patrick wasn't paying attention. He needed to focus on the road, but the heavy snow wasn't making it any easier. The headlights weren't helping at all, but it was the dead of night, so it's not like he could see without them anyway. Besides, the snow was so thick, he couldn't see two feet in front of the car._

_His brother was drumming on the dashboard, singing along to whatever song was on, but frankly, it was getting annoying. Patrick couldn't afford a distraction._

_By now, he couldn't tell the pavement from the ground; everything was equally coated in thick snow. The only way he knew he was still on the road was the occasional passing car and it's headlights._

_In the distance, Patrick could see the dim flicker of headlights, but they were approaching fast. Faster than the other cars, and certainly faster than what was safe in weather like this. Patrick clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, eyes trained on the approaching car._

_As the car got closer, Patrick noticed something was wrong. It was almost wobbling on the road. The next moments seemed to pass in slow motion, and Patrick watched them frame by frame._

_Kevin fell silent and watched the other car with wide eyes._

_Said car hit a patch of black ice and lost control, skidding and skiing, jerking and spinning towards Patrick's car._

_Patrick jerked the wheel away, and consequently lost control of his car._

_It may have skidded harmlessly into a ditch had it not been for that other car, which slammed into the driver's side of the vehicle and flipped it._

_Patrick remembers crying out. He remembers his brother screaming. He remembers unbelievable pain. Blood. Broken glass._

_"...-trick...?"_

_"...-atrick plea... -ke up..."_

_"Please!"_

_He watched with blurry vision as his brother's bloodied face came into view, but was unable to respond. He heard him crying, but it sounded muffled like his voice, like someone had shoved his head into a fishbowl._

_The last thing he felt was Kevin wiping blood from his cheek, whispering something that sounded like, "It's gonna be okay"._

Patrick awoke with a start, tears staining his cheeks and a tightness in his chest. He sat up and let his head fall back against the headboard with a dull thump. Breathe. In, out. In, out. Once his breathing had regulated, he closed his eyes for a moment.

Patrick contemplated reaching for his phone.

He didn't.

                                ~•~

It always got bad at night. He always had more time to think then. No distractions. Nothing stopping him. Pete took a shuddering breath and counted the blue pills he had poured haphazardly into the palm of his hand. Fourteen. Probably enough to do it.

He'd tried before. Unsuccessfully, of course. He called for help at the last moment and was saved in the nick of time. After that, he promised so many people he wouldn't try again, including himself.

Hemingway whined at his feet, pawing at his leg as if he sensed something was wrong. Pete bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut, and before he could change his mind, rushed into the bathroom and threw the pills into the toilet. He dumped the rest from the bottle in as well, just in case, and flushed them.

Pete felt numb. Dizzy. He felt guilty for even thinking about it and angry at himself for almost trying again. He let his back slam against the wall and his body slide down to the floor, knees pulled to his chest and head buried between them. Hemmy waddled into the bathroom and nudged Pete's leg with his nose, then flopped down beside him on the bathroom floor.

Pete contemplated going to get his phone.

He didn't.


	7. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the short chapter, I needed a little event before the next chapter to really kick it off. I hope everyone's enjoying it (and that I'm not going to fast with it). Thank you all for the suggestions and feedback! I may or may not have another chapter out today since I'll be kind of busy this evening, but I'll just have to see. Thanks for reading!

Patrick felt uneasy as he sat in bed with a book he bought the day before. He wasn't even sure why, honestly. He just had a twinge in his chest and a tremble in his wings that he couldn't explain.

Suddenly, a thought hit him like a train. Was it the bond? And was something wrong with Pete? Come to think of it, he'd felt the same way the other night after overcoming the shock of his nightmare. He brushed it off, thinking it was just anxiety left over from the dream, but now...

His phone began to ring on the little table beside his bed, and as he checked the caller ID, he saw the hearts and silly winking faces and nearly yanked the phone off of its chord.

"Pete?" He answered, his heart beginning to beat faster.

"Hey, Patrick. I-... Can you talk to me? I'm really fucking sorry, I'm probably waking you up, but... Please just talk to me."

"O-oh, um, is everything okay?"

"Not- not really. Just... Tell me a story. Anything. Please, Patrick."

Patrick swallowed thickly, fighting down panic, and began to rattle off the first story that came to mind.

"U-uh, my... For my birthday one year, my friends hired a stripper and I, I didn't know what to do, I was so embarrassed, so I hid in a closet for like... an hour. And then, uh..."

Patrick bit his lip, hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood.

"Pete?"

"... Yeah?"

"Can I have your address? I'm coming over."

"What? No, you don't have-"

"I _want_ to. Please. I'm worried, Pete."

 

And so, that's how Patrick ended up knocking frantically on Pete's apartment door, bundled up in a coat and scarf he'd found in his dresser to fend off the midnight chill. When Pete finally opened the door, Patrick accidentally smacked him in the chest, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead, he swept Patrick into a hug and held him tightly.

"God, I'm sorry," Pete murmured into Patrick's shoulder, his voice soft. 

Patrick patted his back gently, hushing him. "Hey, it's alright. I'm always here for you. You don't need to apologize."

Pete shook his head and pulled away slightly, looking pale and... afraid. "It's getting worse, Patrick. The thoughts. They have been for a while, but- but... Not this bad."

Patrick furrowed his brow. Did Pete mean what Patrick thought he meant...? He had a hunch that his medications weren't just for insomnia, like Pete had told him a week before. Pete pursed his lips, then continued, softer this time.

"I almost tried something. I almost did, but I forced myself to find a distraction, and I reached for my phone without thinking and you were there and I didn't know what to do..." He was rambling now, voice occasionally faltering.

Patrick honestly wasn't sure what to do. He guessed he was pretty shitty at his job. What's a guardian angel that can't even begin to know how to protect his charge? He didn't have telepathy or future vision, or even the ability to teleport straight to his charge. He was basically a person with wings. Wings that he couldn't use or else he'd blow his cover. Why would Heaven send a rookie like him to protect a guy like Pete? Pete deserved better.

Patrick pulled away slightly and reached for Pete's hands, intertwining their fingers after a moment. He ran his thumb over Pete's knuckle without a word, and glanced up to meet his eyes. Pete didn't even smile. He just looked... guilty. His normally bright whiskey eyes were sad, no trace of their usual light in them.

"Is there anything you need? Anything you want me to do?" Patrick murmured. He was the one that should be feeling guilty, not Pete.

Pete was silent for a moment, then nodded once. "Can you stay here? I'm so fucking sorry I'm dragging you into this shit, but I'm scared, Patrick."

Patrick swallowed, then nodded without hesitation. Pete let out a relieved sigh and scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand. "God, thank you so much," he breathed out with a weak laugh. "What would I do without you?"

Patrick smiled lightly and gave Pete's hand a gentle squeeze. "Sit down somewhere. I'll make you something sweet, alright? That always cheers me up."

Pete shook his head. "You don't have to do that. Just... Sit with me. Please."

 

Patrick ended up curled up with Pete on the couch, Pete finally calming and falling asleep to a childhood story of Patrick's, and Patrick following soon after, his head pillowed on Pete's shoulder.


	8. Give Him Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, late chapter! I've been busy today and just got some free time, so here we go! Hope you enjoy!

Over the next week and a half, Pete's state of mind seemed to progressively get better. He was more stable, having someone to talk to whenever things took a turn for the worst.

They made a habit of texting every evening, sometimes long into the night if time got away from them or if Pete needed to talk. They met for lunch often, and dinner on Sunday, and not even Patrick could deny that he was falling fast, even after Pete once made Patrick laugh until water came out of his nose.

Not only was Pete opening up, but Patrick was, too. He opened up about his life more than ever, about his family and his hobbies. When he mentioned that he sang, Pete perked up, smiling that same megawatt smile he flashed the day he met Patrick. The angel laughed softly and promised that he'd sing for Pete one day.

Finally, two weeks after Patrick stayed at Pete's apartment, Pete called him around nine o'clock. Patrick immediately thought the worst, snatching up his phone and answering.

"They lowered my dosage."

"Huh?"

"The doctors lowered the dose of my antidepressant. They said it was unusual that I had showed improvement so fast."

"Oh! That's great, Pete!"

"I swear, if it wasn't for you, I'd never have made it this far. You're like an angel or something."

Patrick choked a little, startled, but quickly pulled himself together. "I wouldn't say that. You're just important to me and I tried my best to help you through a hard time."

"See? Angel." Pete paused for a moment, then continued. "Uh, anyway. I'm off tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to do something. I mean, we can only usually meet up for food or whatever, and I'm sure you're tired of seeing me stuff my face."

Patrick rolled his eyes and smiled softly, even though Pete couldn't see. "Sounds great. How about a movie? Or we could just walk around. Anything is fine with me."

"I'm literally the most indecisive person on Earth, don't leave this choice on me."

"Technically, it's your turn to pick something, though."

Patrick heard Pete's breathy laugh, staticky through his speakers. "Fine," Pete said with an exaggerated sigh. "How about both? We can walk to the movies."

"You're such a dork." Patrick could practically feel Pete's grin as he replied,

"But you love it."

"Mm. Yeah, I guess I do."

"Knew it." Pete's reply was cut off by a yawn. "So, uh, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Patrick, "tomorrow."

"See ya, Pattycakes."

"Goodnight, Peter Pan." Patrick heard Pete chuckle before he hung up. Sighing, Patrick closed his phone with a click and placed it on his bedside table, dropping his head into his hands.

Pete's mental state was improving, which was wonderful. But that also meant Patrick's time on Earth was drawing to a close. He'd have to tell Pete the truth soon, about who he was, what he was.

As he sat thinking, a thought suddenly popped into his head. Were his feelings for Pete even real? Was any of this real? Or did Heaven only stage this to make sure Pete recovered, and Patrick would return to Heaven with no feelings for Pete whatsoever? Dread gripped his heart, his eyes wide.

"It was all you."

Patrick nearly flipped off of his bed when he heard the voice, head whipping around towards the source. A man with an auburn beard and a soft voice stood in his doorway, his skin inked with countless intricate designs. His wings were broad, broad enough that he'd probably have to turn sideways and shuffle through the doorway if he wanted to enter the room.

"Who-... Andrew?"

"Andy," the other angel corrected. Patrick, still a bit stunned, blinked owlishly, then muttered a quick apology.

"Why- why are you here?"

Andy shrugged a bit, "Same reason you are. I just sensed another angel and got curious."

"So you listened in on my thoughts _and_ barged into my room," Patrick said, more of a statement than a question.

"More like I overheard them. And I didn't 'barge in', I transported myself in. No use of force, or doors for that matter," Andy replied, voice soft as ever. Patrick couldn't deny that he was a little agitated by this invasion of privacy, but he let it go, instead drumming his fingers on the sheets.

"So, what did you mean by 'it was all me'?" He then prompted, dropping the previous subject. Andy shrugged a bit and- as predicted- shuffled sideways into the room. His wings bumped against the doorframe, so he tucked them close to his body.

Older, more experienced angels always get more, Patrick thought bitterly. Powers, bigger wings... When Andy gave him a look, he ducked his head in embarrassment.

"I meant that Heaven didn't interfere with your relationship with your charge. It's all you, and it's all real," said Andy as he folded his hands in front of his body. Again, Patrick blinked a few times, silent for a moment.

"How do you know?" he said finally.

"Heaven doesn't work that way. The elder angels assign each guardian angel to a certain charge for a reason. They have to be compatible in some way or else things could go wrong. You just happened to be compatible... romantically," Andy explained, then paused. Patrick furrowed his brow in thought.

"That rarely happens, you know. There must be some reason behind it," he finally finished. Patrick's eyes widened as the pieces seemed to click together.

"Depression."

"Hm?"

"He has depression, and it got really bad lately. Unbelievably bad. He needed someone to talk to, to help him fight his demons because he couldn't do it alone. And that someone was me," he said, finally understanding it himself. "But... I'll eventually be sent back to Heaven, right? What happens then? It... It never goes away. Even I can't make it go away. It's not that simple. Will he be in danger again once I'm gone?"

Andy merely shook his head solemnly. "I have no idea, Patrick. If I knew, I'd tell you. I'm sorry."

Patrick slumped a bit, lips pursed. "How am I supposed to protect him now? Now that I know all of this?"

"Keep doing what you've been doing this whole time. Give him love, that's all you can do."


	9. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write! I may have another up tonight, but I'll have to see. I hope you enjoy and stay tuned!! Comments and suggestions are amazing, and as always, thanks for reading! <3

"You said 264, right?"

"No, 284. Don't tell me you've already knocked on that door."

"Uh."

Patrick sighed as he heard a door open on the other line, and Pete's hand go over the speaker of the phone. The conversation was muffled, but from what he heard, Pete was polite, and the older lady who apparently owned the apartment invited him in for brownies she had made yesterday afternoon. Pete paused (and Patrick snorted), then he declined and told the woman he had to meet a friend. When she finally let him go, he sighed into the phone.

"Brownies, huh?" Patrick teased.

"Oh, shut up. You wouldn't pass up an offer for free brownies either," Pete replied haughtily.

Patrick grinned and hopped off of the couch, slipping into his shoes as he held the phone between his shoulder and his ear. "And what about 'meeting a friend'?"

"What did you want me to say?" Pete said, a smile in his voice, "Gotta pick my boyfriend up from his apartment so we can snog, but it's whatever."

"Who said anything about snogging?" Patrick asked, what Pete said before ringing in his head. _Boyfriend_. _I have a boyfriend._

"... I dunno. Thought you'd be down for it."

There was a knock (more like a bang) at Patrick's door, then, "open up, I'm here."

Patrick hung up and moved to the door, opening it and stepping aside for Pete to come in.

"Try not to beat my door down next time, Hulk."

Pete flexed a muscle and admired it, "No promises. These guns have a mind of their own."

Patrick feigned a bored expression and moved to shut the door in Pete's face, but Pete slapped a hand into the surface and pushed it back open, his lower lip pushed out in a pout.

"C'mon, Pat. I won't tell another bad pun. Maybe. Probably."

Patrick couldn't keep up the serious façade for long. A small smile lit up his face as he held out a hand for Pete to take.

"You're a dumbass," Patrick said with a soft laugh. His laugh turned into a sigh as Pete captured his lips in a quick, chaste kiss.

"So, movies, yeah?"

"Movies," Patrick agreed.

                               ~•~

Patrick was slightly disappointed when Pete let go of his hand as soon as they left the apartment building, but Pete seemed reluctant to let go in the first place.

"What movie?" Pete finally asked as they passed the five-hundredth Starbucks Patrick has seen in this city so far.

"I don't care, you pick. But _not_ Minions. I swear if I see another one of those vile creatures, I'm gonna throw up," Patrick groused and Pete let out a guffaw.

"We're totally seeing Minions now," said Pete, nudging Patrick, who promptly groaned, in the ribs.

"And I'm going back home," Patrick jested, and as he turned around, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

"You won't. You wouldn't leave me like— hey!" Pete's reply was interrupted by Patrick's grabbing his arm and yanking him into the nearest shop. He heard his name being called outside a split second before the door shut.

"Hey, Pete," said a voice from the cash register.

Patrick spun around and was greeted with the sight of a curly haired man behind the counter of what seemed to be a music store, and Andy leaning over the linoleum surface, his elbows on the countertop.

"Andy?"

"Whoa, you know this guy?" said Curly, raising an eyebrow at Andy.

"Old friend," Andy supplied, catching Patrick's gaze and giving an almost imperceptible nod.

"Joe! I've been meaning to stop by. You saved that album for me, right?" Pete asked as he began to approach the counter.

The door to the shop then opened, and Patrick felt the color drain from his face.

"Patrick?"

Patrick swallowed and shook his head, taking an unsteady step back. Andy stood up from the counter, and Patrick saw his wings flare as he read Patrick's thoughts.

"Kevin..?"

Kevin looked like he had just withstood a blow to the chest, his breath catching as he stumbled back.

"No... There's no way. No fucking way."

"Look," Patrick said weakly, taking another step back, "I can explain."

"The hell you will! You were dead! You were /fucking dead/! I watched you die, I went to the funeral— your body was in the casket and I saw it! Jesus Christ," Patrick's brother nearly screamed, in hysterics.

Pete, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of horror and confusion, turned on Patrick. "What the fuck is he talking about? What's going on? Patrick?"

"Kevin, please—"

"Patrick, you'd better tell me what the hell is going on here. I know I'm not fucking crazy, and I know what I saw," Kevin continued, now approaching Patrick. He was seriously afraid his brother would start throwing punches at this point.

Patrick took another step back and knocked into a shelf, pressing flat to it. He wished he could just disappear.

"Ten years! It's been ten damn years, and I haven't— I'm... this isn't making sense to me."

"Patrick?" Pete repeated, stepping over and reaching a hand out towards Patrick. The angel flinched and knocked it away, and Pete withdrew it like he had been burned.

"Everyone just shut up for a minute! I'm going to explain everything, but I can't-... I can't put my thoughts together when everyone's bombarding me with- please. I promise I can explain everything."

Both Pete and Kevin fell silent, Kevin looking outraged and Pete looking puzzled and hurt, which threatened to break Patrick's heart.

Patrick took a deep breath to calm himself, then another, and glanced over to Andy. Again, he gave him a nod, and Patrick straightened his posture and faced the others.

Then he let his wings materialize.


	10. It's Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, this was kind of a short chapter, but I've got an idea for the next one that I'm sure you'll like!! Anywho, thanks for reading! Comments, suggestions, and even questions are amazing! Thank you!!

_Wings._

_Patrick has... wings?_

Pete glanced around the room, and so far, the only person that looked reasonably shocked was Kevin. Joe had raised his brow, but his expression wasn't a terribly surprised one.

Pete rubbed his eyes and tried to open his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He floundered for words for a moment before Kevin voiced Pete's thoughts.

"Okay, what the hell just happened?"

Patrick shuffled his feet a little before standing tall and announcing, "I'm an angel. More specifically, a guardian angel. /His/ guardian angel."

When Patrick motioned to Pete, he was at a loss for words again. It seemed Kevin was in the same boat, but was now reasonably more calm.

Pete stared dumbly at Patrick, his thoughts reeling and stumbling over each other. He couldn't wrap his head around any of this information.

"Guardian angel," he repeated lamely, still dumbfounded. Patrick nodded twice, his lips pursed.

Pete said nothing more as he observed Patrick's wings. They were beautiful; small like him with long, neatly-preened feathers mixed in with smaller, fuzzy ones. _Kind of like a baby bird_ , he thought to himself. They were gloriously white, but not in the least hard to look at. Patrick seemed to shrink away from all the attention he was getting, his wings folding and pressing close to his body.

"Please don't tell mom and dad. Or Meg. Please," Patrick asked of Kevin with a pleading look. Kevin visibly bristled, but the rest of the conversation was muted by Pete's thoughts, which were currently in a state of turmoil.

He had a guardian angel. Why did he even need a guardian angel? He doesn't remember Patrick pulling him out of oncoming traffic or saving him from a falling piano or— Oh. Saving him.

Patrick did save him.

All the late night conversations and open arms at lunch and stolen kisses in the darkness of city streets. The soothing talks and hot tears being swiped away by thin fingers and kept promises. Patrick had saved Pete from himself.

He hadn't really believed angels had existed before this. And now here he was, staring at one who happened to be his boyfriend.

Suddenly, a terrible thought clawed its way into his mind. What if Patrick never actually loved him? What if this was just his job as his guardian? There's no way. He wouldn't take it that far. It would be counterproductive, right? Helping Pete recover with love that turned out to be false, making Pete spiral back down to where he started. This had to be real. It had to.

Pete snapped out of his thoughts once Kevin took a shaky breath, clenched his fists, and gave Patrick a nod.

"I'll... I'll see you around," he said stiffly.

Patrick cleared his throat and nodded back.

"See you, Kevin." And after a moment, "Kevin, I'm—"

Patrick's brother held up a hand, silencing him with a shake of his head.

"I'm just glad you're back," was all he said before he left the shop and disappeared from sight.

Patrick stood facing the door for a few moments, silent and unmoving. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed seconds later, and Pete was afraid he was going to cry. He cleared his throat and Patrick, seeming hesitant, turned to face him.

"I-... Pete, I'm so sorry I didn't—"

"Hey, it's... It's alright. You did what you had to do. I understand. I'm just..." Pete took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "It's hard to comprehend, y'know? All of this."

"Yeah," Patrick said tightly, "I understand."

Pete was still mildly shell-shocked and his stomach was in knots. He felt slightly betrayed, but he wouldn't dare let it show. He shouldn't be blaming Patrick for hiding this anyway. But he couldn't help but feel that way. In truth, he wasn't really sure what was next for them both. For whatever they had between them.

"Should we...?" Joe began, casting a sidelong glance toward Andy, who nodded in affirmation and slipped behind the counter to join Joe in the back office.

As soon as they were gone, Patrick nearly collapsed into Pete's arms, hands fisted in his shirt.

"God, I'm sorry... I should have told you... You probably think— oh no, you don't think I—" Patrick took a deep breath to steady himself, and Pete could feel the slight tremble of Patrick's frame as he wrapped his arms around his soft middle. _Revealing himself must have taken a lot of effort_ , Pete thought.

"I... I thought that I was made to love you by my superiors in Heaven. I was so scared that this wasn't real, but it is, and I don't want you to think for one second that it isn't."

Pete rested his head next to Patrick's.

"You love me?"

Patrick seemed to brighten up a bit at this, his grip on Pete's shirt loosening.

"Of course I do, dumbass," he murmured and pulled away to look at Pete properly.

"I'm surprised you couldn't see that already."

"Guess I just couldn't see through this gun show," Pete snickered as he pulled one arm away and flexed it.

"Holy shit, you're ridiculous."

Not even Patrick could keep himself from smiling, and Pete prided himself in his ability to make Patrick happy in any situation, kind of like the effect Patrick had on Pete.

Patrick then tilted Pete's chin up and closed the distance between them, and Pete couldn't help but smile against his lips.


	11. Intimacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, so this is my first smutty-ish thing. Kinda scary. Anyway, comments make my day, and thanks for reading!

As they walked back home (neither felt up to a movie), Patrick stayed unusually quiet. He had concealed his wings, even from Pete, just before they left the music shop. 

Pete sensed the still-tense atmosphere and decided it would be better to wait to ask all the questions he had buzzing in his mind. 

~~~

Patrick, however, wanted to talk. He just wasn't sure how to start a conversation after everything that happened in the shop. Almost immediately after he revealed himself, he felt a strange tug in his chest, almost like the tug of the bond, but not quite. It was an urgent pulling that wasn't altogether pleasant, nor completely unpleasant. It was like a dull ache. He should have asked Andy about it when he had the chance...

"Um... Sorry your day off hasn't gone as planned. Do you still... do you still want to watch a movie? We can rent one and watch it at your apartment," Patrick suggested, "I don't really have a DVD player..."

Pete ran a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it. It's definitely been interesting," he said with a small smile. "But yeah, that's a good idea. Any preferences?"

Patrick didn't particularly care at this point. He shrugged and shook his head, and Pete bit his lip.  
"I've already got Fast and Furious back at my place. That okay?"

The angel perked up at once. Those movies were some of his favorites, although he only saw the first two before the accident.

"Sounds perfect."

~~~

Around thirty minutes into the first movie, Pete's curiosity finally got the better of him.  
"Can I ask you a question?" He queried to Patrick, who was curled up against his side with a blanket.  
Patrick stiffened a bit, but nodded his consent. 

"Sure. Shoot."

"Your brother mentioned that you died. Er... This is kind of an awkward question, but how did you die? I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want, but..."

"It's okay," Patrick reassured him, "you deserve to know. I was in an accident. Kevin and I were coming home in the snow. It was coming down thick, and I could barely see a thing. Then this guy who was going way too fast in the other lane skidded on the ice and hit my car. I lost control trying to swerve away and the hit flipped us. I'm... I'm pretty sure I bled out."

Patrick's voice was soft as he retold the memory, and Pete almost had to lean in to hear him.

"Jeez, Patrick... I'm sorry."

"The past is in the past. It's alright now."

"So... That was ten years ago? That's what Kevin said, at least."

Patrick nodded in affirmation. "It will be in December."

Pete nodded back slowly as he processed this information. Patrick died so young. At least he had a second chance.

"Can I ask you another question?"

Again, Patrick gave his permission.

"What exactly does a guardian angel do? Like, I know they protect people and all that, but don't you usually hear things like 'everyone's born with a guardian angel' or whatever? I mean, I just thought it was strange that right in the middle of my life, I got a guardian angel, y'know?"

"You're right in the fact that we protect people. Let me start from the beginning," Patrick started, and Pete shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Guardian angels are assigned to a person in times of need, whether it be an oncoming natural disaster or, in your case, danger from within. The danger is foreseen by God or a council of ancient angels, and groups of angels are sent to Earth periodically. Among them are the angels assigned to be guardians. Usually guardians are experienced angels with powers and whatnot that can help them better protect and help their charge. I'm considered a young angel, so I haven't developed any powers or anything yet. Just my wings, but I'm just now able to use those. My flight feathers grew in." The proud tone in Patrick's voice made Pete laugh lightly.

"Anyway, waves of angels are sent down all the time. Some keep time flowing right, others work random miracles, et cetera, et cetera. Guardian angels are always sent to earth with the name of their charge, but that's about it. If things go well, they're sent to a location that's very close to their charge, then they're on their own."

Patrick paused, looking as if he might say something else, but decided against it.

"What? What were you gonna say?"

Patrick fiddled with the blanket in his hands, sighing softly.

"We always form a bond with our charges. Sometimes it's strong, sometimes it's weak, but it always amplifies feelings already felt by the angel and human. Our bond was unusually strong. We-- well, at least I fell in love unusually fast as a result."  
"It was love at first sight, Pattycakes," Pete hummed, grinning.

Patrick nudged him gently with his elbow, rolling his eyes.

"So, I mean, is it bad that we're together? Like, is heaven okay with it?"

"Heaven's fine with it as far as I know," Patrick answered. "It's just..."

"Just...?"

Again, Patrick let out a soft sigh. His voice was tight when he spoke.

"When a guardian's mission is completed, they're... they're sent back to Heaven."

Pete's breath stuttered, but he stayed silent to let Patrick continue.

"I've been feeling this— this pull in my chest and in my mind. And I've been thinking that it might be... Well, that it's Heaven's way of calling me home."  
Patrick wasn't meeting Pete's eyes; he was simply looking down, as if he were staring a hole into the floor.

"You... You're going back?"

Patrick nodded pathetically, his head bowing further.

"I... When..?" Pete asked softly, even though he was afraid of the answer.

"I don't know," Patrick whispered. "They could send me back any time."

Pete swallowed and exhaled slowly, his eyes closing for a moment.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Pete..."

Pete simply nodded, not trusting his voice to work properly. His throat felt tight and his head felt fuzzy. Patrick couldn't leave... He couldn't...

Patrick began to shake beside him, and Pete was afraid he was being sent back until he heard a quiet, broken gasp.

"Patrick," he murmured as he gathered the other into his arms, pulling him into his lap. Patrick latched onto him immediately.

"It's not fair, Pete," he mumbled into Pete's neck, "You deserve so much better than this... I'm- I'm sorry I couldn't give you more."

"No, no, you're enough. Hell, you're more than enough. I wouldn't trade this for anything," Pete whispered back, pressing a kiss to the shell of Patrick's ear.  
Patrick pulled back, (and Pete noticed his eyes were red) then cupped Pete's face and kissed him. At first it was gentle, Patrick's soft lips against Pete's slightly chapped ones. Then Patrick seemed to grow desperate, tilting his head and moving his lips against Pete's, who was slightly surprised but complied eagerly. Pete's lungs burned when they pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. Both of their cheeks were wet, but neither one kept track of whose tears were whose.

"I-I'm so sorry," Patrick choked out, "if I could stay, I would. I'd stay as long as fate would allow."

After a moment, he sniffled and let out a laugh that sounded awfully like a sob.

"That sounded so cliché," he uttered, and Pete let out a laugh-sob to match Patrick's.

"God, I love you so much," Pete whispered as he brushed tears from Patrick's face with his thumb. 

All at once, their lips were connected once more. It was open mouthed and desperate, conveying every feeling they couldn't put into words. Pete mapped out Patrick's mouth as his hands roamed his body, and Patrick did the same. Once they pulled apart for breath, Pete was immediately on Patrick's neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nips at the soft skin. Patrick let out a soft sound that was music to Pete's ears. As he sucked on Patrick's collarbone, his hands drifted down Patrick's soft sides and rested at his hips, his thumbs into his belt loops and pulling him impossibly closer.

~~~

"Let me do something for you," Pete murmured, his breath hot against Patrick's neck. It made him shiver and rock unconsciously on Pete's lap.

"What? No, you don't have to-"

"But I want to."

Pete was turning his own words against him, the bastard. Besides, it was Patrick who should be doing something for Pete. But if it made Pete happy...

"Okay..."

Pete tugged a little on the loops his fingers were currently hooked through, as if asking for permission. His pants were quickly growing tight, and Patrick would really appreciate it if Pete got them off as quickly as possible, but he was too nervous to do more than blink and blush.

"Can I blow you?"

Well. That was certainly straightforward.

"Or is this too impure for an angel?" Pete joked with a grin. Patrick sputtered, scowling, "I've had sex before, smartass. Nothing's too impure anymore. And... Yes. Please."

Pete hummed his approval and made quick work of Patrick's pants, getting up and kneeling on the floor before moving for the waistband of Patrick's boxers.

"W-wait," Patrick said quickly, grabbing at Pete's wrist, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Pete nodded, his brow furrowed. "Yeah, of course. Do you? 'Cause I can stop if you're not comfor—"

"No! Er, no, I want you to. I was just making sure."

Pete flashed a smile and tugged Patrick down for a quick kiss, then slowly slid Patrick's boxers from his hips. 

Patrick flushed as Pete just looked at him for a moment, his gaze roaming over his body. Suddenly, Pete's hand was wrapped around the base of his length, jacking it slowly. Patrick was taken by surprise and let out a soft moan, then clapped a hand over his mouth.  
Pete clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Wanna hear you," was all he said, and Patrick immediately lowered his hand. 

Pete licked his lips and nudged Patrick's thighs apart, crawling closer and sitting back on his haunches as he gripped Patrick's hips. Truthfully, Patrick could have come right there from just looking at Pete's dark eyes and his swollen lips and the fact that he's /on his knees in between Patrick's legs with his mouth inches from his cock/.  
Oh yeah.  
He wasn't sure how long he'd last.

And to make matters worse, Pete then licked a stripe along the underside of Patrick's dick, kissed the head, then /took the entire thing into his mouth/. Patrick felt the head hit the back of Pete's throat and almost cried out, barely restraining himself from bucking his hips into Pete's mouth. Instead, he threaded his fingers through Pete's hair and bit his lip. Pete hummed a bit, seeming content, and hollowed out his cheeks as he began to bob his head slowly, his tongue swirling in all the right places. 

"Fuck, Pete," Patrick panted, squeezing his eyes shut as Pete nearly pulled all the way off, then deep-throated him once more. 

One of Pete's hands went to roam over Patrick's bare skin, moving back to squeeze his ass once. When Pete dragged his teeth down the length of Patrick's cock, he almost lost it, voicing Pete's name in a whine. Pete picked up the pace after that, occasionally letting out a moan of his own that sent (delicious) vibrations through Patrick's body. Finally, Patrick breathed out, "P-Pete... Hah, fuck, I-I'm gonna—"

He expected Pete to pull away, but he seemed to grip Patrick's hips even tighter, staying put. Heat pooled low in his belly and he came with a panted out moan, tugging on Pete's hair. 

Pete coughed a little but managed to swallow almost everything (which was pretty much the hottest thing Patrick had ever seen).

Pete pulled away with a slick 'pop' and licked his spit-slick lips, catching a stray drop of come.  
Pete climbed back onto the couch beside Patrick, who was catching his breath, his head feeling light.  
"W-wow," was all he could get out. Pete laughed, his voice lowered an octave.

"Can I..?" Patrick asked after a moment, glancing to the obvious arousal in Pete's pants.

Pete nodded quickly, and Patrick fumbled with the button and zipper before tugging (rather peeling) Pete's jeans off and discarding them on the floor. He gently pumped Pete's cock as soon as his briefs were off, slicking him up with the bit of pre-come that had beaded at the head. Pete bit his knuckle to keep from moaning, but Patrick wouldn't have that. He began to pump his hand faster and Pete's hands moved to grip the couch, his breath coming quick. 

"So good, Patrick," he moaned out, his head thrown back. 

Patrick paused for a moment before pressing his lips to the tip like Pete had done for him, then jacked him a few more times. Pete came with a shout, shooting thick white ropes over Patrick's hand and the couch. Pete watched Patrick with heavy-lidded eyes as he brought his hand up, observed it, then slowly licked it clean. It was probably the dirtiest thing Patrick had ever done, but the low guttural groan Pete had let out because of it was worth it.

~•~

With the movie forgotten, Pete dressed for bed and gave Patrick a pair of his sweatpants to wear, then climbed into bed and patted the space next to him. Patrick climbed in after him and curled up to his side, and both were asleep in a matter of minutes, legs tangled together and foreheads almost touching.


	12. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a short chapter, I've been so busy lately. I may have one up tomorrow and I'll try my best to have one ready for you all. Thanks for reading! Comments, questions, and suggestions are wonderful (as always) :)

Pete awoke to Patrick gently shaking his shoulder, murmuring his name.

"Pete. Pete, wake up,"

"Hmm...? 'Trick...?"

When Pete blinked his eyes open, he was met with the sight of Patrick leaning over him, blue eyes wide. He was swathed in a soft light that grew a little brighter with each passing second. Even his wings were visible and radiating light.

Pete was immediately wide awake, sitting up stick straight and throwing off the covers. 

"I think it's time," Patrick whispered, looking fearful.

Pete shook his head and grabbed for Patrick's   
hands, taking them into his own and lacing their fingers together.

"What? You mean-..? They're sending you back?"

"I... I think so."

"You can't," he began, voice breaking. He'd like to blame the fact that he just woke up on his failing voice, but anyone could see through that lie like glass. "Please don't leave..."

Patrick crawled closer to Pete and released his grip on his hands, throwing his arms around his neck instead. Pete hugged him right back, his eyes closed against the tears that threatened to spill forth. 

"I'm sorry, Pete..."

"Please," Pete pleaded, his hands fisting tightly into the fabric of Patrick's shirt. "God, I'm-... I'm scared, Patrick..."

"I love you. I always will. Please don't forget that."

"This... This isn't goodbye, Patrick. It can't be. It won't end like this, r-right...?" Pete couldn't hold the tears back anymore.

"It can't fucking end like this..."

"It isn't ending, Pete. It's just... It's a new beginning. Pl-please stay strong for me." 

Patrick's voice was wavering, on the edge of giving out completely. 

He pulled away and they just observed each other for a moment; every part of Patrick was shining, from his beautiful eyes to the tears that leaked out of them and dripped down his pale cheeks. Pete brought their lips together softly, then gently brushed Patrick's hair off of his forehead.

"I'll be watching over you, right? That's — that's what angels do."

Pete could only nod, pulling Patrick close.

"I love you, too," he finally whispered.

Patrick squeezed back tightly, his frame shaking slightly. Even his wings were trembling. Pete buried his face into Patrick's shoulder and traced shapes on his back with his fingertips.

In the blink of an eye, Pete's arms were no longer around Patrick, because there was nothing there, and it was as if there never was. He slowly lowered his arms, heart dropping.

He finally allowed himself to sob, punching the mattress weakly and hunching over the bed as grief washed over him.


	13. Stressed Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, school just started today and it's been busy. As always, thanks for reading! Comments are super rad and you're all awesome!!

When Patrick opened his eyes, he almost had to shield them from the bright light coming from... well, everywhere. He squinted down at his clothes; he was no longer in Pete's sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, but donning a white shirt with a white blazer, complete with creased white dress pants and white shoes. It almost felt too clean, too pristine to him after spending so long on Earth. 

He stood from the cobblestone street and stared up at the shining gates before him. They began to creak open, as if reading Patrick's thoughts, and now he could see angels of every age lining the streets and speaking amongst themselves. As the gates began to open, their gazes snapped to Patrick and their talking died down to hushed whispers and stolen glances. Patrick made a move to reach for his fedora and tug it over his eyes in an attempt to hide from their stares, but he ended up swiping at empty air. No fedora, and nothing to block his sight of them.

His hands curled into fists and he slowly made his way through the gates, the feathers on his wings puffing out as a sign of his anxiety. 

Some angels looked sympathetic, some ecstatic, and some downright fearful. None of this made Patrick feel any better. At the end of the path, he could see a figure dressed in white. Large white wings fanned around them with a wingspan bigger than Patrick had ever seen before. As he got closer, he recognized the figure to be Elton, one of the oldest angels on the Council.

Patrick continued to walk, and the feeling of everyone's burning stares was about to drive him crazy. When he finally stopped in front of Elton, he knelt down as a sign of respect. Elton motioned for him to stand a moment later.

"Patrick Stump."

"Yes, sir."

Patrick cringed at how his voice wavered ever so slightly.

"I understand you just returned from your assignment."

"Yes, sir."

Memories flooded back and threatened to overtake him, and it must have shown in his eyes because Elton rested a warm hand on his shoulder for a moment.   
Patrick tried to conjure up a grateful smile, but it didn't quite work.

"And you helped your charge recover, correct?"

"Yes... Yes, sir."

"Well... I don't think just one visit will do."

Patrick blinked a few times. Did he hear that correctly?

"I'm sorry?"

"We've come to a consensus here. We believe that you should have more time with your charge. His particular case requires a particular kind of care. Long term care. We believe you'd benefit from it as well, seeing as you've formed such a strong bond with Peter," Elton explained, clasping his hands together.

"So... You... You're sending me back?"

Elton gave a nod. "As long as you consent to it."

Patrick was about to open his mouth to wholeheartedly agree, but Elton raised a hand to stop him.

"There's one catch. We'd like for you to stay on Earth with him for as long as would allow. But you'd need to give up your wings."

Patrick gaped. Giving up your wings meant you also gave up your angel title. Which meant... You'd essentially be brought back to life. Of course, Patrick would keep the body he had now a supposed to rising from the grave like some old horror movie.   
His immortality would be gone, as well.  
He'd be able to properly stay with Pete without the fear of losing him first.

"We haven't done this in hundreds of years. In fact, we've only done this one other time. This is special, Patrick. Part of the reason we thought this to be a viable option was because we believed you deserved another shot at life."

Patrick sucked in a breath, then pressed his mouth into a thin line.  
This was a huge decision. Pete meant so much to him, but giving up his angelhood was a permanent thing. There was no guarantee he'd become an angel again once he died.  
The thought of dying again made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Can I... Can I have more time to decide?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course. We need your decision as soon as possible, however. This evening or tomorrow would be perfect."

Patrick nodded, kneeling once more.

"Thank you, sir. I'll get my decision to you as soon as I can."

As he was dismissed, he couldn't help but think that he should have made his decision right there. He felt as if he was selfish for not picking Pete right away, but it was a significant choice to make. 

Patrick felt a large hand on his shoulder and turned around to see his old friend Gabe, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Patrick! I heard about your little fling," he said as he waggled his brow.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Don't talk so loud."

"Why? It's not like no one else heard the boss man's whole spiel. I mean, did you see everyone lined up on the street?"

"Yeah, and it scared me half to death. I didn't see you in the crowd, though. Where were you?"

"With Hayley and Vicky stuck behind the biggest dude in the history of dudes. Couldn't see anything around his big head."

Patrick huffed out a breath, shoving Gabe gently. 

"Be nice. I don't know who's bright idea it was to let you in here," he teased good-naturedly.

"I could say the same thing to you, lover boy. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Gabe ruffled Patrick's hair, hip-checked him, then walked off towards Victoria, who had been trying to get his attention ever since he approached Patrick.  
Patrick let out a breath and continued on his way through the crowd of angels.

~•~

That night, Patrick came to his final decision.  
He couldn't leave Pete like that. It was unfair to just come, fall in love, then leave with hardly a goodbye. Pete meant more than that to him. That's why he decided to give up his wings.

He made his way to the Council to inform them of his choice, and most seemed delighted, even proud. They'd raised a fine angel. Elton clapped him on the shoulder and told him of the ceremony they'd go through the next day. About half way into the explanation, Patrick began to feel nervous, jittery. Had he made the right choice?

Of course he had. He had to be there for Pete.

Elton gave him a smile and reassured him, but it did little to calm Patrick's nerves. He thanked him anyway and headed back to sleep for the rest of his last night in Heaven.


	14. Right Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! So this fic is winding down and I'm sad. The next (and probably final chapter) will most likely be the epilogue, and it'll be up tomorrow or this weekend. I'm pretty sure you'll like it! Anyway, comments are amazing and I love you all, and thanks for reading! <3

Time isn't a straight line. It's more of a tangle of elastic that can snap, stretch, bend, and wrap around itself or another strand. With that being said, time doesn't flow the same in Heaven as it does on Earth. A day in Heaven could be as little as a few minutes on Earth, or as large as a few months. It all depended on the flow of time in those particular locations.

So, while Patrick was in Heaven for a day, two weeks and three days passed on Earth with Pete. And every single one of those days was a drag.

He noticed that the thoughts were beginning to rear their ugly heads again, always lurking at the edge of his thoughts like a tiger waiting for the right moment to pounce. 

He was pretty sure Patrick would be pretty pissed if he found Pete in Heaven (if he even ended up there), so he knew he had to stay strong and remember Patrick's advice.

It was so hard to think about Patrick, though. Pete would flip through his phone and find a picture he took of Patrick mid-laugh and fall in love all over again, and it hurt. He never thought he'd be the sappy type, and he definitely never thought he'd fall in love with someone like this, but Patrick was no ordinary someone. He was extraordinary in every aspect. 

Work was hard that last week, but he did get promoted on Thursday. He soon learned that being Vice President of a record label was no joke. When he got the call, he laughed with glee and went to tell Patrick the good news, but he stopped short, his finger hovering above his name in the contact list.

The following Sunday was rainy and gray, the only color being the cheery umbrellas people carried along the street. 

Pete ran errands, hung out with Joe and his new friend, Andy (who, surprise, was also an angel, and yet another thing that reminded Pete of Patrick), at the record shop. Joe asked Pete his thoughts of starting a band. Pete had laughed and said he thought that was actually a good idea, but he had to focus on his job right then. When Andy volunteered to drum, even Joe was surprised. Pete bought an album, told Joe he'd definitely think about the band idea, then headed home for dinner. 

Pete discovered that he had nothing but butter and noodles, and was too lazy to go back out for groceries. So buttered noodles it was.

As he was twirling his fork around his plate absentmindedly, he heard soft rapping on the door. Probably his neighbor asking if their mail got mixed up again. Seriously, how does someone mix up Way and Wentz? 

He rubbed his eyes and scooted his chair back, making his way to the door. 

"Yeah?" 

Pete's breath caught in his throat, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.  
There he was, as beautiful as ever with his soft hair and softer skin, his light blue eyes behind wide rimmed glasses, and his flushed cheeks and a tiny smile gracing his pink, pink lips.  
God, Pete was in love.

They seemed to move at the same time, scooping each other into their arms and holding on tight.

"I'm here, Pete," Patrick whispered into Pete's neck, his hand threading though Pete's hair.

Pete took a shuddering breath and accidentally let out the sob he'd been trying to choke back. He felt pathetic just breaking down in front of Patrick, but he didn't really care at this point.

Patrick hushed him, burying his face further into Pete's neck and taking a deep breath.

"How...?" Pete finally murmured.

"I'm staying here. Right here on Earth."

Pete sniffled and pulled away, just gazing at Patrick. 

"Why-... How did you come back?" 

"I was offered an opportunity to come back and I took it. I couldn't leave you like that," Patrick replied, his hand moving to Pete's cheek and his thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. Pete leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. 

"You're here? Like... For good?"

"For good." He assured.

Pete pressed his lips into a thin line, opening his eyes to watch Patrick. Pete looked concerned, his brows pinched together.

"Won't I... Y'know, won't I get old without you?"

Patrick shook his head slowly.

"I... I gave up my wings."

Pete frowned a bit, puzzled.

"You what...? You gave up your wings? So you're... Are you mortal?"

"As human as you are," Patrick answered somewhat sheepishly.

He did that all for Pete? What did he do in a past life to deserve a guy like this, end a war?

"I can't believe-... Shit," Pete said with a breathy laugh as he began to rub at his eyes again.

"Me too," Patrick said with a smile.

They then fell into a comfortable silence, just holding each other and listening to the other's breathing.

After a minute or so, Pete broke the silence.

"Did you go to Heaven in my sweatpants?"

Patrick blinked and looked down at himself, seeing the gray pants hanging low on his hips. He then laughed, his head falling against Pete's chest.

"I wish."

Pete tilted Patrick's head up and pressed a kiss to his lips, then grinned slyly. Before Patrick could say a word, Pete was hauling him up, Patrick squeaking in surprise and wrapping his legs around Pete in an effort to keep from falling, and closed the door behind them as he whisked them into the apartment.


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is really it. Thank you all so much for sticking with me and my weird update schedule. Thanks for all the comments and the kudos and everything wonderful you guys have done to help me finish this fic. I really do appreciate it, and I hope this ending is enough. Thank you for reading! <3

After Patrick's return, Pete and Patrick seemed to grow closer than ever. They continued to meet for lunch and dinner, and Patrick even secured himself a gig at one of the restaurants they often visited, thanks to Pete pestering him about his insane talent. He'd picked up music again in his free time, normally only performing for Pete. 

It took a lot of persuading (and other things) on Pete's part to even get Patrick to consider performing for the public. His first performance was a hit and, soon enough, Patrick was beginning to make a substantial amount of money from his little shows. He gained public attention and became somewhat of a local star, getting invites from bistros and cafes and hole-in-the-walls all over the lower section of the city. And Pete, of course, came to every show. Whenever Patrick felt particularly nervous, he just picked Pete out from the crowd and focused on him, steadying his voice.

Eventually, they discussed moving in together. Since both Pete and Patrick were making a few extra bucks, they began to search for a different apartment altogether. Patrick managed to find a cute place for a reasonable price that happened to be closer to Pete's workplace. They snapped it up as soon as possible and began to move in about a week later, quickly getting settled in.

One evening, Pete came home and swept Patrick, who was getting ready for another gig, into a bear hug, lifting him up a little. Patrick let out a startled laugh and pulled away as soon as Pete set him down.  
"What was that for?" he asked amusedly. Pete smiled that megawatt smile and said with childlike joy, "You know how I applied to be the president of the company? Y'know, it happened a while back? Well, I got it!"  
Patrick couldn't help but smile at his glee, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips. "I'm so proud of you, Pete."

Patrick took a shower when he got home after his performance, walking out with damp hair and Pete's sweat pants covering his legs. He bent down to grab a stray t shirt from the bottom of the closet, and Pete totally did not stare at his (amazing) ass.  
When he turned around, skin still flushed from the shower, hair stuck to his forehead, and Pete's pants hanging lopsided on his hips, it took all of Pete's effort and then some go stop himself from ravaging Patrick right then and there.  
Apparently it wasn't enough.

Later that night (after another shower), Patrick was tucked in Pete's arms, his soft hair tickling Pete's nose. Patrick shifted and looked up at Pete, smiling sleepily, and Pete pressed their foreheads together.

Pete didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke up in the middle of the night and rolled over, listening to Patrick's steady breathing, he knew for once in his life that everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I should be able to update this every day or every other day. I'm super excited for this fic! Comments are always appreciated (and encouraged)! Tell me what you'd like to see in this fic and I might be able to incorporate it in the future. Thank you so much! <3


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